


Demon

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ficlet, M/M, Transformation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-09
Updated: 2018-11-09
Packaged: 2019-08-21 07:27:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16572251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Prompto sees Noctis’ altered form.





	Demon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [avocado_bros_4thewin (mkblitz)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mkblitz/gifts).



> A/N: Fill for mrpineapple42’s “#17 Dragon with Prompto/Somebody” request on [my tumblr prompt list](http://yeaka.tumblr.com/post/179060905990/prompt-list).
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Prompto loves hanging out with Noctis more than just about anything. He likes coming over to the luxurious apartment when Ignis is there, busy in the kitchen or with paperwork at the dining table, and he likes coming over when both Gladiolus and Ignis are waiting with some game or another. But he likes it best when he’s the only one—when it’s just him and _Noctis_ , and the two of them can sit too close on the couch and let the television drone on in the background. The movie could already be over for all Prompto knows—he hasn’t looked back at the screen in forever. All of his focus is on the tongue in his mouth and the arm around his waist. He loves the rich scent of Noctis’ cologne and the way that Noctis’ bangs tickle his forehead when Noctis switches angles too much. Prompto loves _everything._

They’re near the very edge of the couch—Prompto was leaning on the armrest before Noctis snuck a hand between his thighs, and now Noctis is crowding him up against the back of it—Prompto keeps expecting to be pushed right over the edge and shoved onto the floor. He’d be okay with that. He’d be fine with sore knees and bruises, if they came from Noctis’ fervour. He likes it when Noctis bites his lips a little _too_ hard, when Noctis’ long fingers dig into his sides like claws. Then Noctis opens wide and breathes into his mouth, and it feels like a cloud of molten steam. Prompto nearly chokes on it, pulling back to cough and flush—sometimes Noctis almost _burns_ him. But he likes it. Noctis growls and nips at the corner of Prompto’s mouth, but Prompto leans away for a minute, needing to breathe. 

When Prompto straightens up again, ready to resume making out, Noctis hesitates. His dark eyes flicker with little flecks of red. He asks, low and worried, “Did I hurt you...?”

“S’okay,” Prompto says, diving in for another kiss, but Noctis dodges. Whining and chasing Noctis down, Prompto mutters, “It was just really hot for a second—s’fine...”

Noctis splays his hand against Prompto’s chest. When he guides Prompto back, Prompto obediently goes where he’s put, even though he’s disappointed. He wants to keep going. They’ve only got a few hours before Noctis has practice with Gladiolus, and Ignis will probably be over before then to go over yesterday’s council meeting, and Noctis’ attention will return to them. He had them first, after all, and he has them _more_ —they’re pledged to him, share their life with them, and Prompto’s just the flavour of the month. They haven’t even gone that far yet. Definitely not as far as Noctis goes with Gladiolus and Ignis. Prompto just wants to enjoy the fleeting kisses while he can.

He waits while Noctis sits back and looks him over, maybe assessing something, clearly lost in thought. When it takes too long, because Prompto’s still squirming with _want_ , Prompto asks, “What...?”

Noctis’ tongue peeks out to trace over his lips. Prompto eyes it with no small amount of hunger. With a rumble deep in his throat, Noctis answers, “You mentioned, once, wanting to see my royal form... do you still want to?”

Prompto’s heart nearly leaps right out of his chest. He eagerly nods, immediately insisting, “ _Yes._ ” He’s wanted that from the moment he first heard the rumours, even more so when Noctis himself confirmed them. 

Noctis warns him, “It’s kind of weird... it’s part of the Crystal’s magic, you know, so it’s... well...”

Almost breathless, Prompto pushes, “I wanna see.” And he wants to _feel_. He wants to know every part of Noctis he can, inside and out. Noctis shuts his eyes.

When he opens them again, they’re entirely red, eaten up and practically glowing, with pale purple lights running under his skin from the direction of his pupils. The magic spreads out, dancing along his throat, gliding down his shoulders, and then Noctis’ shirt starts to ride up because long, leathery spindles are poking out of it, lifting and spreading to reveal folded wings. A long, scaly tail slithers out over his thighs, twisting over Prompto’s legs too, and the weight and warmth of it makes his heart pound—it’s _real_. Blunted horns are twisting out of Noctis’ skull, rising up through the soft strands to form hardened ridges that look straight off a daemon. There are even places where his skin shifts and _changes_ , growing the subtle texture of scales, tinted grey-black instead of peach. Prompto’s transfixed with everything. 

Eyeing him up like a predator, Noctis asks, “Well?”

Prompto shakes his head. He doesn’t have the words yet. He tentatively lifts a hand to cup Noctis’ cheek, feeling the scales against his palm, and Noctis leans right into it. Prompto manages to murmur, “ _So_ hot...” A smirk grows on Noctis’ handsome face. His tail starts to curl possessively around Prompto’s waist—Prompto lets it pull him closer. Now Noctis’ fingernails are sharp as claws, and he can feel it when they scratch down his thighs, just short of slicing open the fabric. Prompto shivers at the touch. Noctis’ body is stifling hot, but Prompto wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Noctis pulls Prompto close enough to lean into his ear. Noctis’ long tongue flicks at the shell, and Noctis purrs into it, “I’m sure you’ve heard that dragons love to hoard things...” Prompto dazedly nods; he has. “Do you know what I hoard...?”

Prompto shakes his head; he has no idea. But he can imagine the royal treasury is a massive room of gold and diamonds that King Regis loves to lounge in. Noctis mouths at Prompto’s ear, carefully grazing sharpened teeth along it. Then Noctis whispers, “Cute boys.”

Prompto shudders. His pants are ridiculously tight. He’s practically in Noctis’ lap now, and all he can do is wonder how far down the transformation goes. Noctis’ tongue, as smoldering as the rest of him, swipes over Prompto’s cheek. Noctis idly drawls, “All dragons like collecting pretty things... can I add you to my collection, Prompto?”

Prompto nods so hard he nearly gives himself whiplash. Noctis smirks so beautifully. 

Noctis’ calloused fingers twist into Prompto’s, and he tugs Prompto lightly off the couch, guiding him right to the bedroom. Prompto completely and utterly surrenders.


End file.
